Sleepless Beauty
by Selyann
Summary: For reasons he can't quite understand, Jirou finds himself more asleep than ever before, and yet sleepless at the same time. While in a coma, he has the opportunity to see things he never noticed before - but how does one come back to life? That's not something they teach you at school... (Character pairings and precise rating to be established later, for now T.)


**Notes:** I've been meaning to write this for ages. The first draft was finished in August, but I thought I'd lost it in October's computer crash. Thankfully, I found it and decided to edit and publish, so here it is at last. :)

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><p>As Jirou woke to an unfamiliar ceiling, he realised he had no idea what had happened. He only knew that something must have, because there was Atobe sitting next to the bed he was lying on, his face serious as his gaze remained fixed on Jirou – which usually meant he had done something wrong in one way or another. Expecting a scolding or something of the sort, Jirou grinned sheepishly and let out a laugh, but his captain's facial expression remained unchanged. Atobe hardly even seemed to acknowledge the fact that Jirou had awoken. The lack of reaction puzzled him somewhat, so he tried calling Atobe's name to cause the boy to react in some way.<p>

However, nothing happened.

It was unsettling, but Jirou was not one to be discouraged easily. If Atobe wanted to play some sort of punishment game – or whatever it was – then that was fine with him. Surely he would have to acknowledge him at some point in time anyway.

Atobe's lips moved and at first he could not hear because the words were too soft. Then, after a moment of silence, Atobe furrowed his brow and spoke up in an irritated voice: 'Wake up, Jirou.'

Atobe was looking at him intently and Jirou had to protest, saying that he _was_ awake. Atobe should know it better than anyone – even if he had not been obvious enough about it (which he had, but speaking purely theoretically), Atobe prided himself on his Insight, and that alone should leave him no room for doubt. For this very reason, Jirou could not help finding the situation at hand at least bizarre.

'Jirou …' came Atobe's voice again, breaking his train of thought. 'I'm sorry.'

'Eh? Why?' asked Jirou, bewildered, and jumped off the bed hastily.

However, his question was met with a silence and not even a flinch on Atobe's part. Jirou thought that if it continued like that, he might be the one to become irritated, but for now he would wait. As he watched, Atobe let his face fall into his palms in something akin to resignation. Jirou had seen that look before, although not too often on Atobe's face.

Eventually, a loud sigh came.

'Forgive me …' were Atobe's next words, followed by a short pause. 'Of all times, for me not to make it in time this one …' He gritted his teeth as if in frustration and stood up abruptly, turning away from Jirou and crossing the room.

Confused, Jirou blinked a few times before leaping after his retreating form. 'Wait, Atobe! What are you talking about?' he called out to the boy.

Atobe did not hear, or pretended not to, and exited the room, closing the door in Jirou's face.

There was a silence. To say that Jirou was shocked would be an understatement. Why would Atobe stubbornly ignore him if he thought that he was the one at fault and not Jirou? If such was the case, then there was no need for Atobe to act like he wanted to punish him for something he had done.

It doesn't make sense at all, thought Jirou and turned round to return to the bed to sleep more, if that was how things were.

When his gaze fell on the bed, he suddenly found himself frozen with his mouth wide open.

The bed was not empty. In fact, it was occupied by someone who looked exactly like him. Perhaps someone who _was_ him, something in the back of his mind suggested. But things of this sort only happened in manga, Jirou had been led to believe by his family and friends – and yet he could not help noticing for the very first time that the room he was in was not just any room, but a hospital one. He hardly knew how he could have missed that before, but now it was so clear, especially with all those tubes connecting the occupant of the bed to various medical apparatuses.

Jirou stared at the person who looked exactly like him but should not be him because it was just too surreal and thought back to all the words Atobe had said to him – and to the fact Atobe had not reacted to his actions in any way when he obviously should have.

Thoughts in abundance swirled in his head violently, the most pressing, however, being one particular question:

_Just what on earth is going on …?_


End file.
